Writing Prompts
by flowerpower71
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on the writing prompts by "birdsongs" on DeviantART. Some stories may contain OC's. Rated T because it's hetalia
1. Violin

**AN: Devon is my OC. His story is not written yet but here's a quick Summary of him:**

**He's 12 years old, has strawberry blonde hair and green eyed and wears a black coat with gray lining and gold buttons, jeans and black shoes. He also has bandages wrapped around his left eye due to a car accident he was in when he was 5 that left him scarred. I won't go any further than that though because then there'll be spoilers for his story.**

**If you want more info of him please feel free to send me a PM.**

**I don't own Hetalia**

Devon sighed in complete and utter boredom, resting his back against the couch. He and his cousin Arthur were currently in the house of Roderich Edlestein, or as he was more commonly known as, Austria. He and the British man had some "important business" to discuss and the twelve year old boy had been forced to come along (much to his dismay) since no one else was available to watch him.

His green eyes shifted to look over at the two men in deep discussion. Something or other about territory or whatever. Devon honestly couldn't care less. His main priority right now was to try to defeat the child's worst enemy known as boredom.

"I have to go to the bathroom." he announced rather loudly, causing the two countries to cease their chatter and turn to him.

"Devon, your supposed to say, 'Excuse me, may I use the restroom.'" Arthur scolded, horrified by his younger cousins rude behavior.

Devon resisted the urge to roll his eye. "Excuse me, may I use the restroom." he said dully.

"It's down the hall to the left." Austria said taking a sip of his tea. "You can't miss it."

"Thanks." Devon chirped and bolted off the couch and out of the room, much to Britain's dismay.

Truth is, the boy didn't really need to go. But he did need to get out of that room, lest he start screaming. Even though he knew that Mr. Austria didn't have any toys, walking around was better than sitting there.

_"Maybe he's got a tv or something." _Devon thought. After walking for what felt like hours but in reality was only a few minutes he paused when he reached Austria's music room.

In the middle of the room stood a shiny black baby grand piano. Devon entered and ran his fingers across the ivory keys. He looked around him. Austria seemed to have basically every classical instrument in existence. The piano, a flute, a cello, you name it he had it. But there was one instrument in particular that caught Devon's eye.

Across the room, sitting on a stand on a table was a violin. Devon drifted away from the piano and over to the violin. He ran his fingers over the smooth shiny wood and strummed the strings.

"Had to go to the bathroom huh?"

Devon yelped and spun around, seeing the towering figure of Austria behind him.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Devon stuttered. "I-I was just-"

"Stop." Austria held up a hand. He easily reached over the boy's head and grabbed the violin in his hand. "So you like the violin?"

The twelve year old stood there stunned for a few moments. "I'm not in trouble?"

"Why would you be in trouble?" Austria asked not looking up from the instrument he held in his hands. "You didn't break anything, you didn't steal anything...did you?"

"No!"

"Then your fine." Austria nodded. "So, you like the violin?"

The strawberry blonde haired boy nodded. "Yeah...Most kids my age think it's weird I like classical music though."

"Bah!" the Austrian scoffed looking offended. "Those barbaric children do not appreciate the fine arts. Unlike you. Do you play Devon?"

"No." Devon shook his head.

"I could teach you if you'd like."

Devon blinked. "What?! Really?!"

"Why would I say something I do not mean?" the slightest hint of a smirk playing on Austria's lips but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. The Austrain gasped as he suddenly found the small boy clinging to his legs.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" Devon exclaimed excitedly.

Austria couldn't help but smile. He patted the boy on his head. "Your welcome."

And from that day on, whenever it was Arthur's turn to watch Devon, he'd take the boy to Austria's house once or twice a week and Austria would teach him how to play. And within a few months time, Devon was an amazing violinist.


	2. Paper areoplane

**AN: In this story, America's a kid. Yay chibi America! :D**

Alfred F. Jones, aka America, toddled across the tiled kitchen floor, his arms full with a heavy pile of paper. His tiny little feet pitter-patted against the floor as he made his way to the back door which lead outside.

He huffed, setting the paper on the ground and opened the door. He then bent down and picked up the pile of paper again and headed outside, closing the door behind him with his foot. Once outside he made his way over to the table and chairs that sat in the sun on the concrete.

With much effort, the child managed to sit the pile onto the table. He then pulled out the chair closest to him and climbed in it. Once he got himself situated, he took the top piece of paper off the pile and began to fold it.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Hmmm, I haven't heard from America in awhile..." England mused. If there's one thing that England had learned since he had taken in the young colony and raised him, is that if America was quiet for to long a period of time, then it's usually not a good sign.

With a sigh, the older nation placed his cup of tea onto the saucer plate and rose from the chair he had been sitting in. "I better go check on him."

Britain headed up the stairs of the house and peeked into Alfred's room. The bed sloppily made, toys and books laying all over the place. Britain made a mental note to himself to make the boy clean his room when he found him.

"America?" he called leaving the room. After searching the house for a long time, worry began to start to seep into Britain's heart. Where could he be?

"America! Alfred where the bloody hell are you?!"

No answer.

"Oh no!" Arthur said worriedly. "I lost my little brother!"

Just as he was about to grab the phone to call for help, the sound of a strong gust of wind from outside got his attention. He heard a small cry from outside and much to his surprise when he looked out the window, he saw a bunch of papers flying around.

"What the...?" Then it dawned on him. Outside! He hadn't checked the yard yet. He quickly ran to the kitchen and opened the door. A mixture of relief and then confusion hitting him once he spotted the child.

Strewn everywhere all over the yard were papers, a lot of them bended on odd positions. And sitting at the table and chair's was America, his forehead resting on the table and his little hands balled up in fists.

"America..." Britain said. He walked over to the child and bent down, placing a hand on his back. "America, what's going on?"

The child didn't move at first, but then lifted his head, looking at his caretaker with tear stained cheeks.

"I-I was tryin to make a paper areoplane, b-but I couldn't do it!" He sobbed. "Then the wind blew and blew all my papers away!"

Britain just stared in shock at the child...then began to laugh.

"It's not fuwny Bwitain!" America exclaimed offended.

"N-no, no. I'm not laughing at you America, I'm laughing at myself." Britain explained trying to calm down. He wiped an eye and said, "I'm laughing at myself."

America raised an eyebrow. "Your self?"

"Yes, I was running all over the place inside the house looking for you and you was here the whole time."

America looked up and grinned at the image of the usually prim and proper Brit running around all over the place like a mad-man. "I guess I showlda towld you I was outside huh?"

"Yes you should have." Britain nodded. "But back to the matter at hand." he grabbed a nearby piece of paper and placed it on the table. He then began to fold in. America's eyes lit up as the paper began to take the shape of-

"AN AEROPLANE!" America exclaimed.

Britain chuckled. "Yes an aero-er, an airplane." He placed the plane into America's little hand and then grabbed another piece of paaer and made a second plane.

"Now hold it like this." Britain instructed holding his plane like so.

"Like this?" America asked.

"Yes, perfect." Britain praised. "Now you just pulled back,"

America copied Britain.

"And throw!"

And with that the two paper airplanes took off to the sky.

"Lookit them go Bwitan! Lookit them go!" America squealed. Britain laughed and snatched the boy up in his arms, hugging him.

They spent the rest of the afternoon, making and throwing paper planes.


	3. Feather

**AN: Prussia is in Chibi form here.**

"Mein Gott! Zat Hungary guy haz zome izzues!" Prussia grumbled to himself as he stumbled through the forest, rubbing the newly formed and throbbing bruise on his head. The Teutonic Knight had just returned from hunting with Hungary...well that was the original plan at least. Along the way the two had broke out in a fight which Gilbert couldn't even remember how it got started in the first place. Next thing the albino knew, he took an arrow to the butt, a fist to the stomach and another fist to the head. Obviously he fought back but the Hungarian had just caught him off guard. (At least that what he kept telling himself) and was eventually forced to flee.

The silver haired knight huffed out a breath, both in pain and annoyance. "Stupid Hungary. Can't handle Mein awesomeness. Vell forget zat! Ef he vant's to be zat vay zen fine! Who needs-"

_Peep_

Prussia stopped and looked around him. "Vas waz zat?"

_Cheep_

There was the noise again, only it sounded weaker.

"Ef zat's zat stupid Austria, I swear I vill slaughter him." the red eyed man growled pulling out his bow and arrow and looking around. "SHOW YOURZELF YOU COWARD!"

..._Cheep._

The sound of a bush rustled and a victorious smile pulled at Gilberts lips. "Kesesesesese!" he ran to the bush and strung his arrow, ready to attack. "I got ju now Austri-huh?!"

There behind the bush was a little yellow bird. It's fluffy yellow feathers were a mess and the bird quivered in fear at the sharp pointy arrow pointed toward it.

Prussia frowned, "A stupid bird? Jur ze one who waz making all zat wracked?"

The yellow canary just stared at him.

"Stop zat! Etz freaking me out!"

The bird blinked. "Cheeeeeeeeep."

The albino tilted his head to the side. "Vhy don't ju fly avay?"

The bird looked down sadly and moved a little, exposing it's right wing. Prussia felt himself wince seeing the sickening angle it was bent out.

"Ouch. Zat looks painful." the Prussian winced. He looked around, not really knowing what he was looking for. He knew he should be getting back...but he just couldn't leave the poor bird there. Wait, what was he thinking?! He was the great and awesome Prussia! What did he care about some stupid canary?

"Vell too bad. See ya later birdie. Try not to get youzelf eaten. Alf Weiterzein!" he said as he began to walk away. Gilbert dared not look back at the bird behind him, but he could still feel the bird staring at him from behind.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was about fifteen minutes later when Gilbert realized that he had forgotten his arrow.

"Zat stupid bird made me forget my arrow!" he exclaimed realizing he must have dropped it back at the bush. With a huff and turned on his heel and trudged back to where he had last seen the bird.

Plus it wouldn't hurt to make sure the stupid bird was alright. Not that he cared.

Once he reached the bush, there on the ground was his arrow just where he left it. Gilbert picked it up and stuck it in his quiver, casting a quick glance in the bush in the process.

The bird was gone. All that remained of his little yellow friend was a single yellow feather.

Prussia frowned, picking up the feather and holding it between his thumb and pointed finger. _"I hope ze little guy ez alright..."_

The albino was snapped from his thoughts as a commotion was heard not to far ahead. He heard growling and...chirping?

"Ze bird!" Prussia exclaimed taking off running and following the noise. He followed the noise, running as quick as he could, jumping over a log and through bushes until he reached the source of the noise.

The Prussian found the yellow bird cowering against a tree as a hungry, growling, drooling fox stared at him with hungry eyes. The fox licked his lips, he could already taste the bird in his mouth-

"GET AVAY FROM HIM!" Prussia shouted shooting an arrow at the fox. The fox yelped and took off running into the woods.

"Yeah! Ju bettar run! Und don't come back unless ju vant to face ze wrath of se awesome Prussia!" the Teutonic Knight shouted after the animal, smirking in victory. Once the danger was gone, he glanced at the still shaking bird sitting by the tree, trying to hide itself in it's good wing.

Prussia bit his cheek looking at the bird. Now it was even more defenseless. His ruby eyes lit up a little and he smirked "Vell bird, since you cannot defend jourself from a measly fox, it appears zat ze awesome me must take care of you until ju are vell.

The bird peeked from it's feathers and chirped at Gilbert.

"Ja, sure Vhy not?-Vas? Vas are ju doing?" he asked looking down at the little bird who was nuzzling itself against his leg. Despite himself, the knight couldn't help but smile at the affectionate little bird.

"Ja, ja, knock et off. Don't go telling ozars zat I did zis though, I've got a reputation to keep up." he chuckled picking the bird up and sitting it on his head.

"Now, ze awesome me can't keep calling you bird now, can I? Nein, ju need a name. An awesome name. A name zat ez as awesome as..." his eyes lit up. "As awesome as mine! Zat's et! I am a genius! From now on, ju vill be named, Gilbird. Izn't zat name awesome?"

Gilbird let out a happy chirp and nuzzled himself in Prussia's hair.

"I knew ju'd love it!"

And from that day on, Prussia and Gilbird were inseperable. Wherever Prussia went you would always find a little yellow bird flying next to him or happily perched on his head.


	4. He was a fan of Classical Music

Devon Kirkland was a strange child. One minute he'd be quiet, sitting for hours on end just lost in deep thought, off in his own little world and then in the next minute he'd be up, shouting, bouncing off the walls driving his cousins absolutely stark raving mad.

Out of all four of his cousins though, Devon found the most amusement when bugging Arthur. Oh how the 12 year old loved to see the vein in the Brit's head throb whenever he reached his boiling point with the boy.

Devon was loud, Devon was wreckless, he was a daredevil. Heck the child would frequently climb onto the roof of the house just for the amusement of nearly give his older cousin a heart attack.

And yet, despite all this he had his quite side. His gentle side. The side of him that would enjoy just sitting curled up in a chair sipping tea and watching the fire in the fireplace.

Perhaps that was why Arthur really wasn't all that surprised when he found out that his cousin had a love for classical music. Sure he'd listen to more modern songs too, but more often than not, he would find the child listening to classical music on the computer.

Devon seemed to favor Mozart, Arthur noticed.

When the Brit first began to take his younger cousin to his classes with Mr. Austria, Arthur could not believe the look in the child's eyes. It was like it was Christmas morning when he pulled the car up to the fancy looking house.

Arthur smiled to himself as the sound of violin music drifted down from upstairs. He would never admit it out loud but he loved hearing his cousin practice. Devon certainly had a gift for the violin. That was certain.

_"I suppose once he fully masters the violin, I'll have to buy him a piano next." _The Brit chuckled at the thought. He closed his eyes and leaned against the chair, allowing the sweet melody take him away.

Who would have thought that a child like Devon Kirkland would be a fan of classical music?


	5. Learning French

**Heads up, this one-shot contains an OC that belongs to my friend YinYangofthePeaceCircle.**

**Alysia is the daughter of River (another OC of YinYangs) and River is the love interest of Canada. Since Canada is France's "son", ergo Alysia is France's adoptive grandpa. **

**For more info check out RiverThunder's story "Of Maple Leaves and Rushing Water" on DeviantART.**

**Anyway Alysia belongs to YinYangofthePeaceCircle/RiverThunder **

**Hetalia belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya**

"Papa Francy?"

Francis Bonnefoy looked up from the newspaper he was reading and looked at the little three year old, blonde haired, purple clad girl that stood next to him, looking at the Frenchman with big blue eyes.

"Vhat ez et mon petite fleur?" Francis asked, folding the news paper up and giving all his attention to his adopted granddaughter Alysia.

"Can you teach me French?" the little girl squeaked.

Francis blinked in surprise. "You vant to learn French?"

Alysia nodded, grinning widely. "Yeah! Your language sounds so pretty. And I wanna speak it so I can be like you."

Francis felt his heart melt into a puddle at these words. He beamed at the child and suddenly picked her up, swinging her around. "But of coarze mon lapin!"

"Yay!" Alysia cheered, giggling and wrapping her arms around his neck. "When can we start?"

"Right now."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . .

"B-bon...bonjour?"

"You got et!" Francis cheered, clapping his hands.

Alysia beamed feeling proud of herself. "Thank you-oops! I mean, merci Papa."

"Very good me belle." Francis nodded in approval. "You are a fast learner. Just like your fazar."

Alysia blushes and hid her face in her purple teddy bear's fur. "M-Merci."

Francis smiled at her and looked at his watch. "You Maman vill be 'ere soon to take you 'ome. Ve bettar go inside."

"Aaaaaaw!" the little girl whined, pouting. "Okay."

Francis chuckled and helped the girl down. "Don't vorry, you'll zee moi tomorrow."

"I know, but I'm having fun." Alysia said, sliding down off the chair and then following the country inside. "Papa?"

"Oui?"

"How do you say, I love you, in French?"

Francis paused and looked at the girl. A warm smile pulling at his face. "Je' taime."

"Gazoontite."

Francis let out a bark of laughter. "Non, non Alysia. Je' Taime ez 'how you say I love you."

"Oh!" Alysia said with realization. She motioned for the Frenchman to bend down to her level, as if she wanted to tell him a secret.

"Vhat ez et?" he asked and suddenly stumbled back a little as the child lunged herself at him, hugging his neck tightly.

"Je' taime Papa. Merci beu coup for teaching me." she squeaked.

The country just stood there in shock. He smiled and felt his heart soar at her words. In his native tongue. He wrapped his arms around the tiny girl and hugged her back.

"Je' tamie, Alysia."


	6. The Darkening Sky Saw Me Die

Gilbert Belischmiedt lay on the ground, gasping in pain trying to get prescious air back into his lungs. Crimson colored blood stained his clothing, sweat beaded his pale colored skin. His hair was a mess and his tri-cornered hat lay next to him, exposing his messy white hair. The sky dark with black angry looking storm clouds.

All around him lay the bodies of soldiers from his army. The Prussian army. Despite their best efforts, no matter how hard and bravely they fought, in the end it was futile. They had lost. Prussia had fallen.

And as a result, Gilbert was dying.

"Dumkoffs." the albino wheezed, cringing in pain. He covered his bleeding abdomen and curled up in a ball. He had failed them. He failed his people. But worst of all, he failed Holy Rome.

"Bruder!"

The dying country looked up, seeing his younger brother running toward's him. Tears stung his blue eyes and the boy fell to his knees next to his older sibling, his own hat flying off his head exposing his blond colored hair.

"Bruder!" Holy Rome cried.

"H-hey Bruder." Gilbert said shakily, giving the small child a shaky smile.

"Gilbert." Holy Rome whimpered, tears freely raining down his cheeks. "Please don't leave me! You can't die! Grandpa Germania is gone and if your gone to I'll be all alone!"

Prussia felt his heart shatter into a million broken pieces at his younger brother's words. He swallowed thickly shoving down his own sobs and reached up a hand to place upon the young boy's shoulders.

"H-hey, hey...stop zat vright now. N-nein tearz...Ja, mein awesome country 'Prussia' haz fallen, az vell az ze Holy Roman Empire."

Holy Rome choked out a sob and held his brother's hand to his cheek. Gilbert wiped away the tears with his thumb.

"But ju,... ju vill be okay... Ju'll continue being a country. Ju'll get a new country name und forget jur memories about being Holy Rome..." he turned his head and coughed into his other hand, splattering blood onto it.

"I don't want to become a new country though! I don't want to forget about you! Your mein bruder! I wish we never gotten into this stupid war!" the blonde boy exclaimed hugging tightly to the quickly fadeing ex-country.

"I...I vill still be jur bruder und vatch over ju...Ah promise." Gilbert whispered. His vision was quickly fading and his strength leaving his body. This was it. He heard the rumble of thunder.

"G-Gilbert..." Holy Rome whimpered, clutching his brother's hand as if it would somehow make the older male not pass on.

With every little bit of strength he had left, the Prussian leaned over, kissing his little brother on the head. "I-Ich liebe dich..."

And with that, Gilberts ruby red eyes closed and his body fell limp.

"Bruder?"

"..."

"BRUDER?!"

Thunder exploded and lightening flashed sending the rain down in buckets but the now ex Holy Rome didn't notice nor care. The young boy's wails were drowned out by the sound of the rain and thunder and he threw himself onto the dead country's corpse.

"Ich liebe dich Gilbert...Ich liebe dich...please...please come back...come back."


End file.
